


Don't Say Anything

by Bobbie23



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sam and Jack Ship Day 2020 (Stargate), Thunder - Freeform, post Threads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25565632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobbie23/pseuds/Bobbie23
Summary: Sam was right. They don’t need to say anything, they already know.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 7
Kudos: 68





	Don't Say Anything

_‘Don't say anything. My heart understands your heart.’ Avijeet Das_

As soon as Jack steps outside with his first cup of coffee, he knows a storm is brewing. The sky is filled with murky clouds, shades of grey mixing with silver and white. Jack breathes in deeply, his senses filled with that fresh smell that precedes a storm. He knows Sam could and would tell him what causes it. He knows it’s something to do with oxygen and nitrogen splitting, but he likes a little mystery at this time in the morning. The atmosphere is calm, almost deceptive. Jack knows from experience it’s going to one hell of a storm.

This would happen on the morning Daniel and Teal’c leave. Jack mentions how muddy the area gets during a storm over a breakfast of eggs and toast. It’s hell on tire traction. The guys can’t stay longer, they need to return to Colorado. Teal’c wants to get back to Dakara, Daniel has briefings to prepare for Atlantis. They decide to leave earlier than planned to get a head start and say their goodbyes despite the sky growing darker.

He and Sam decide to brave the elements for as long as they can because once the storm hits, they’ll be stuck inside. Thicker clouds roll in as Jack settles on the dock with his fishing rod. Sam sits beside him with one of the books she snuck up here. She’s happy to sit beside him, occasionally she looks up when he casts the line into the water and watches the ripples travel across the surface.

They don’t say much. Jack doesn’t know how to start the conversation they’ve been avoiding. He doesn’t know if they have to have it or not at this point. She knows him well enough to know he has no clue what to say. He’s sure she knows what he’s trying to say even when he messes it up. They’ve drifted closer over the last week, ignoring the boundaries put in place by years of training. They allowed themselves casual touches, leaning into them rather than pulling away. They’ve always been better with non-verbal cues than talking.

A loud thunderclap precedes the rain by mere seconds. Large droplets disrupt the ponds’ surface, rippling outwards. Jack lets loose a curse as he and Sam scramble to pack up the fishing gear and drag it to the house. They dash back through the rain, now coming down in sheets, to grab their chairs. She pays no attention to the shower as she brings the chairs through the back door.

She stands in the open door, dripping onto the matt. She runs her hands over her hair, slicking it down from the rain. She huffs out a laugh, a huge smile spreading across her face as she breathes deeply. They’re both soaked, dripping on the floor. She meets his gaze, her vibrant eyes piercing his, her teeth chattering. He pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around her shoulders. “Here,” he says, pulling the edges up to her neck.  


Her teeth stop chattering as his fingers rub the blanket as he resists the urge to rub his hands up and down her arms. Her gaze drops to his mouth as she breathes in softly. Her eyes flick up to his. Her eyes search his.

He can’t help staring. It’s almost night. He knows they should be drying off, starting a fire, retreating to a safe distance. He doesn’t move, though. Thunder rolls, a deep rumble, for several seconds until it reaches its crescendo and breaks directly above them. Lightning follows, lighting up the sky and illuminating the room. Stuck, neither of them flinches or pay either any heed. It’s only the tell-tale groan of the electrics which pulls Jack from their trance. Sam blinks and looks around as Jack reaches over to flick one of the light switches. Nothing, nada.

“Generator is gone,” he mutters.

Instead of venturing into the rain to check the generator in the shed, he focuses on starting a fire. He builds up a couple of logs, checks the flue. He uses matches to light the kindling underneath. Moving past Sam, he cracks the window nearest to the hearth to get ventilation going but not to let rain in. Only when he turns around does he notice her bemused expression.

“What?”

She smiles wryly at him and shakes her head. “I’ll go check on the generator.”

“Not while it’s chucking it down like this,” Jack tells her. He has a gas stove so they’ll have coffee and warm food. Sheets of rain bounce of the window to prove his point. “The room will warm up soon.” He gives her a once over. “You should change, get out of those clothes.”

As soon as he says it, Jack realises how that sounds. He’s about to apologise then she drags her eyes down over his own saturated clothes. “Maybe we should both change,” he offers.

Her face falls but she nods anyway, the moment gone. They flee into their respective rooms, giving themselves some space. Jack yanks his shirt off and tosses on the floor with a wet thud. His pants follow as he crosses to the wardrobe to get a new set of clothes. He dries off with his towel before redressing. His actions are harried and swift.

He needs to shake the dangerous, almost reckless feelings coursing through him before he sees her again. He feels open, exposed without cover. It hasn’t been easy to navigate their relationship, holding at arms’ length at times like a good soldier should when his instincts were to pull her closer. They fought hard to get to the point where they can explore their feelings. He doesn’t want to screw up it now, not with Sam, not by rushing.

He hears her door creak and feet padding along the hall outside his room. The footsteps fade as they head into the living room. He runs the towel over his hair and face once more, composing himself. He counts to thirty and follows her.

When Jack returns to the living room, he’s hit by the warmth of the fire. His fall on Sam huddled under the blanket he wrapped around her, sitting in the middle of the sofa. A light blue shirt peeks out from underneath it and her grey pyjama bottoms cover her legs with pink socks poking out the end. Her hair stands on end from being dried by a towel. It’s a cute look on her.

He’s about to start on coffee when he notices she’s beat him to it and there are two cups on the small table.

Sam diverts her attention from the fire to him and she smiles softly. She shuffles to the side to make room for him. He sits beside her, at what he thinks is a safe distance, only for her close it to rest against him without waiting for an invitation. Silently, she rearranges the blanket to cover both of them without allowing him to stop her. Not that he would.

Once settled, she tucks herself into the blanket, bringing her knees up to the cushions beneath her, curling herself inward. She drops her head to his shoulder. He cranes his chin to find her staring innocently back.

“Sharing body heat, huh?”

“Survival one-oh-one,” she replies knowingly.

Thunder groans above them. The sky flashes with lightning, strands firing out over the horizon. Sam sighs, snuggling deeper. Jack decides to follow her lead and lets himself enjoys her familiar weight against him. Any apprehension he was feeling is pushed aside as her hand finds his chest. He slips his arm out from between them to pull her closer while not dislodging the blanket. He tries to ignore how her tongue darts out to lick her lips and focuses on the way she feels wrapped around him.

This is what he wants, what he’s wanted for years. He’s ready for this.

Sam looks up from her position on his shoulder, looking more relaxed and calmer than he’s seen her in a long time.

“Sam-.”

She shushes him, reaching up to touch his lips with her fingertips. “You don’t have to say anything, Jack.” She swallows. “I don’t need you to.”

Their mouths meet softly, almost tentatively. Sam leans into him as her lips open, deepening the kiss. Her hand moves from his chest to his neck, trying to get a better angle. Seconds later, he laughs as she growls in frustration and lifts herself up to straddle him. He shuts up. Both of her hands cup his face as she drops down to kiss him. He lifts up to meet her halfway, bringing his hands to her waist. The blanket balances on her shoulder, the sides framing them both in a cocoon.

He doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts. Their lips meet over and over and it melts into one for Jack. He loves how active she is, how she reacts. He takes note of every sigh, every moan, the way her body contracts and rolls over him as his hands roam. He starts kissing down her neck as she arcs backwards to give him more access.

His mouth skirts the collar of Sam’s shirt and he needs more. He glances up to find her watching him through her lashes. Together, they slip her shirt up over her head. The blanket slips to her waist but she doesn’t register it because the fire steadily pumps heat into the room. He barely registers the fire or the storm, his senses are filled with her. He recaptures her lips, leaning forward as she starts tugging at his shirt. It’s not long before his shirt joins hers on the rug.

He presses kisses to her skin, everywhere he can reach. Almost reverently, Jack maps every inch of her torso. Her fingers slide through his hair as his mouth moves to her breast, drawing in a peaked rosy nipple.

“Jack,” she breathes out.

“You want me to stop?” he asks, cupping her other breast and tweaking that nipple.

“Don’t you dare,” Sam hisses.

He smirks up at her. In retaliation, she rolls her hips against him, proving this isn’t all one-sided. “Jesus, Sam,” Jack gasps, his hands go to her hips, trying to stop her before he ends up embarrassing himself.

“Let me guess, it’s your sidearm?” She teases, raising her eyebrow. Her hands cup his jaw as she leans down and kisses him slowly, deliberately.

Jack slides his hand under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. He snickers as she sucks in a breath. “Fair’s fair,” he reminds her.

Her brow furrows as she pouts down at him. Then she’s moving out his grasp to stand before him as she takes off her pants. She eyes him hungrily, nodding at his own in silent instruction. Their pants join their shirts.

Jack swallows as his eyes rake over her. She takes his breath away. He brings his eyes up to her face, finding her staring hungrily back. He holds his hand out to her. Her fingers slide into his and he pulls her back onto his lap. The whole thing barely takes seconds but it feels like minutes. She grips him as she lifts up to sink down on him. She pauses, just for a moment, to adjust. Then she starts to ride him, slowly at first, building her rhythm. His head falls against the back of the sofa, unable to do anything other than support and guide her hips as she undulates.

Their eyes hold as she moves faster, drawing them both closer and closer to the edge. She whimpers as her breathing becomes erratic and pulses around him. She needs a little more…Jack licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between them to find her bud. Her eyes flash as she bucks suddenly, he doesn’t relent though. Regaining some semblance of control, her steel over as she swoops in to kiss him hungrily, her movements more determined than before. Her muscles squeeze him as she gasps. He continues bucking into her as she comes apart in his arms, riding him through her release. He loses all control on his own moments later.

When it’s over Sam falls into his embrace, breathing deeply. When she turns her head to him, she’s limp and satiated. She aims a sleepy smile at him. He knows the adoration in her eyes is reflected in his own. Sam was right. They don’t need to say anything, they already know.


End file.
